What is art?

Art is a sublime mode of communication, a spiritual bridge between its creator and its audience; the most intuitive and natural connection imaginable. Art is an embodiment not necessarily of what is but of the possibilities, of what can be. This mystic connection, however, unlike any other, is not a conscious one; it's at the subconscious level. The true beauty of an artistic creation is that neither the creator nor the audience is consciously aware of the veracity and nature of this relationship.  What is Art 

Pomegranates and the Miniature Tree

Essence of Life

Life is nothing but an incoherent poem

A murky dream inundated with enigma

A fragmented puzzle of countless bits

Crystals of darkness, elusive slivers of light

Bestowed upon us at birth

Not a choice of ours

We interrupt this dream,

An infinite number of times

In the haze of awakening   

Desperately, we strive

To piece it together, and make sense of it all.

Alas

When we have it all figured out,

Suddenly, we realize

None of the pieces

Have fallen where they belonged

Then we despise our awakening

Wish we’d never entered this farce.


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 Real Me

    I was either missing or kidnapped from the maternity ward of a hospital right after birth, of course, that’s one theory. The other speculation is that I’d died as an infant due to medical error while my mother and I were still under the care of the hospital.     Real Me


 Vincent and Franz

Vincent and Franz were my neighbors when I was young

Both lived in dark corner houses, the end

Of our dead-end alley invisible to the naked eye.

Where was this neighborhood?

Many asked me all along.

And the ones who knew where I was from

Didn’t believe a word of mine.   Vincent and Franz 

Rattle Snake Lake.pdf

   Hook 

     As I do every night, I took just a sip of water before I talked myself in the bed. If I drink more, I wake up in the middle of the night for a trip to the bathroom and face another tormenting insomnia afterward. I’ve learned by experience that water at night epitomizes shattered dreams and painful awakenings. That night just before closing my eyes, once again I glanced at the image of myself victoriously parading my prized catch dangling from the fishing line wrapped around my wrist. Fortunately, that delightful moment was captured and framed hanging on the wall above my bed for years.  Hook